Chapter 5
The city breathed death. Every corner, every broken street, every hollow building whispered it. But up on the roof of the hospital, the stench of ash and rot mixed with the faint tang of ozone from the lingering soul energy inside me. I could feel it thrumming beneath my skin, more insistent now, demanding attention, calling out to the remnants of life nearby.
Liora crouched behind the low parapet, her hands pressed to her knees, her wide eyes darting across the ruined skyline. She was pale, trembling, and yet unbroken. I wanted to tell her to stay back, to hide. But I knew she wouldn't listen. She never did. Not when survival meant action. Not when fear demanded courage.
"Jaxon… they're coming," she whispered, pointing toward the street below.
I turned, catching movement among the wreckage. Dozens of the dead emerged, shambling slowly, deliberately. Their glowing eyes were dim blue, flickering like dying embers, scanning, seeking, calculating. It was different from the night before. There were more of them, coordinated somehow, moving as if drawn by something beyond instinct.
I felt the tug beneath my ribs, the pulse of the souls I had already consumed. They are yours. Take them. Feed. Become.
I clenched my fists, the glow in my veins flaring faintly. My first taste of power had been a whisper compared to this. This was a roar. And I could feel the cost pressing against my mind—the slow erosion of empathy, the twisting of my thoughts, the sharpening of my instincts into something more… predatory.
The dead reached the edge of the street, their eyes locking on the hospital. They paused, as if sensing the surge in me. And then they began to climb. Up the crumbling fire escapes, across shattered scaffolding, leaping over gaps between buildings like shadows.
Liora gasped. "How… how can they—"
I cut her off with a sharp hand on her shoulder. "Don't look. Don't watch."
But it was impossible not to see. The creatures moved with an unnatural precision, coordinated, hunting. And I realized with a sick twist in my gut that they weren't random. Someone—or something—was guiding them.
I gritted my teeth. "Then we fight," I said, voice low but certain. "We survive. Together."
The first reached the rooftop. Its eyes glowed brighter as it lunged, arms outstretched, teeth bared. I felt the whisper inside me, stronger than ever. Consume. Become.
The shard of metal in my hand was small, insignificant. But I didn't need it. I focused on the first creature. The soul inside it flickered, fragile, like a candle in the wind. I reached toward it instinctively. The warmth hit me instantly—a rush like fire sliding through my veins. I felt the creature's life flash, memories, moments, emotions spilling into me, fragmented and overwhelming.
It convulsed and froze, then collapsed into nothing. My vision blurred from the intensity of it, my muscles trembling with the surge of strength.
Another lunged. I barely dodged, feeling the pressure of its hands scrape my arm. My vision flared again as I reached for its soul, absorbing it midair. The power surged, sharp and addictive. I could feel my reflexes heighten, my strength multiply, my senses expand beyond human limits.
The creatures didn't hesitate anymore. They came in waves, relentless. But with every soul I consumed, I grew faster, stronger, sharper. Every strike, every motion became instinctive, fluid—predator and prey entwined in a single dance of violence.
Liora's scream pierced the night. One of the dead had leapt past me, hand clamping over her shoulder. My stomach dropped. My heart slammed against my ribs.
"No!" I shouted, moving faster than thought, faster than fear. The shard in my hand glowed faintly as I swung it in a perfect arc, slicing through the creature's chest. I felt its soul surge into me, overwhelming, burning, intoxicating.
She fell backward, gasping, eyes wide with terror. "Jaxon!"
I caught her, steadying her, pressing her against my chest. Her heartbeat was fast, erratic, human in a way that was almost painful to feel against the predator inside me.
"You're alive," I whispered. "You're safe."
For a moment, she clung to me, and I felt a sharp pang of something I hadn't let myself feel in days. Fear, yes—but also relief, and the fleeting warmth of human connection.
The others were still coming. More than I could count, but I was stronger now. Faster. Each movement, each strike, each soul I consumed sharpened me. The creatures fell like ash in the wind. I felt the tug, stronger than before. Take. Consume. Become.
And I wanted it.
I hated that I wanted it.
From the shadows of the street below, I saw him again. The stranger. Watching. Measuring. The way he tilted his head, I knew he was noting every motion, every hesitation, every flicker of hesitation in my power. He wasn't intervening—not yet. But I could feel the weight of his gaze pressing against my soul, a silent warning.
I should have feared him more. I should have run. But I couldn't. Not while the hunger pulsed in me like fire, not while the thrill of survival and predation mixed into a single intoxicating elixir.
The final wave of the dead surged up the fire escape, their eyes bright, their movements sharper than ever. I felt the whisper turn into a roar inside me. They are yours. Take them. Become.
I stepped forward, letting the power flow through me fully for the first time. My vision sharpened, my reflexes perfect, my muscles taut with strength. Every movement was instinctive. Every strike precise. Every soul that left this world entered me, and I felt it in every fiber of my being.
The last one fell, its essence flickering and then merging with mine. The tug inside me reached a crescendo, a maddening, intoxicating pull that made my teeth ache and my vision swim. My body shook, but I didn't stop. I could feel the line between humanity and monster blurring, the whisper at the edges of my mind promising that the next time, the next battle, I could be unstoppable.
Liora's voice broke through the haze. "Jaxon… are you okay?"
I blinked, realizing I had stopped moving. The city was silent again. The dead were gone, scattered back into the shadows. The wind carried ash and the faint metallic tang of blood. My body hummed with the power I had taken. The warmth inside me was intoxicating and terrifying in equal measure.
"I'm… alive," I said, voice low, hoarse. "We're alive."
She stared at me, eyes wide, searching my face. "Jaxon… what are you?"
I didn't answer. Not really. Not yet. Because even I didn't fully know.
I only knew the cost.
The hunger had been fed tonight, but at a price I could already feel gnawing at the edges of my mind. My thoughts were sharper, yes—but colder. My reflexes faster—but less human. Every soul I consumed left a mark, a shift, a fracture.
And yet, I wanted more.
From the shadows, a faint figure watched. The stranger didn't step forward, didn't speak. But I could feel the weight of his gaze, the silent promise that he would return. That the next test would be harder. That the hunger would not wait.
I touched my chest, feeling the pulse of the souls inside me. The warmth, the fire, the dangerous exhilaration.
Liora reached for my hand, trembling, but steady. "Whatever happens… we survive together, right?"
"Together," I said, though my voice trembled slightly—not with fear, but with the vertigo of power, and the understanding that survival had a price. That hunger had a cost. That tonight had changed me in ways I couldn't undo.
I looked at the city below, the streets littered with ruin and ash, and felt it like a physical weight. The dead would return. The stranger would return. And the hunger—oh, the hunger—would always be there. Whispering. Pulling. Demanding.
I didn't know if I would remain human after this night.
But I knew one thing:
I would fight.
I would survive.
And the hunger would not break me—not yet.
Because tomorrow, the city would demand more. The dead would rise again. And I would be ready.
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